


Muscle Memory

by ry0kiku



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Grayson (Comics)
Genre: Amnesiac Dick, BFF Midnighter, Canon Divergence, DaddyBats, Gen, Short, what if
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-06
Updated: 2016-09-06
Packaged: 2018-08-13 08:29:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7969633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ry0kiku/pseuds/ry0kiku
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Instead of Bruce, Dick is the one who lost his memories nearing the end of his Spyral mission.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Muscle Memory

**Author's Note:**

> Batman and all the characters belongs to DC Comics.

 

.

It's a common knowledge that Bruce Wayne trusts no one. And a suspicious stranger dressed in all black who has been stalking him all night, helped disposing some of his villains of the night, and now asked him to walk through this glowing orange portal in midair is no exception.

Until the man informed him that he knew the whereabouts of his first son, whom he has lost contact with for days. Until Midnighter told Batman that Dick Grayson has lost his memories.

" _How?"_

_"Mission went south, hypnos malfunction, dunno the details. All I know is the kid's been reduced to this creepy blank slate by the time I got there."_

_"How bad?"_

_"Who-are-you-who-am-I bad."_

Bruce feels his chest tighten as he makes his way through God's Garden. He has long convinced himself that he sent Dick away to Spyral at least partly for his safety. It's better that way than waiting for Nightwing's enemies to come for him as soon as they find out that he's cheated death. But now...

"Been trying to get him to remember via sparring. Muscle memory, you know? Seems to be working, but the progress is too slow. Maybe you, the one who really trained him, can have a better luck."

Bruce nodded his affirmative, not trusting his own voice at this moment. His throat feels constricted, and the feeling gets worse with every passing corridor that bring him closer to his eldest boy.

"We're here." Midnighter signals him to stop in front of a door, turning around and takes a step back to give him space. "I kind of told him to expect you, so you can come in with the cowl and everything."

A frown. "You told him to expect a visit from Batman?"

Midnighter shrugs. "Kid's taking it calmly, so I don't see why not. Hell, he's pretty chill when a guy like me came over, claimed to be his friend, and offered him sanctuary. And besides, I don't think he understand who or what a 'Batman' is."

Bruce doesn't know if he should feel relieved or punched in the gut by that information. He sends one last look at Midnighter and nods his silent appreciation, before turning to the door. It opens with a creak.

Dick is sitting by the windowsill at the far end of the room. The young man jumps in surprise and stares up at him with wide blue eyes. Bruce takes a step closer, feels a pang as his boy scoots slightly backward in response.

"Dick."

"Hi. Um. You must be the Bat Man. I just didn't expect you to be so... batty."

His voice is equal parts cautious--which is good--and confused. But one that stabs Bruce heart the most is how subdued Dick sounds. Dick has always been full of energy and confidence. To see him as anything but is heartbreaking.

"So... M told me you can help me remember. He says we've known each other for a long time."

' _Yes, we do. I raised you. You're my son in all but name. My pride and joy. And it's my fault you're like this, so Darkseid himself can try to stop me from helping you out of this mess.'_

The words never leave his mouth though. Instead, he takes another step forward, closing their distance. Dick tries not to flinch this time, though there's unmistakable tension in his shoulders. To his credit, the young man still maintains eye contact with him, and though slightly clouded with uncertainty, those eyes are as trusting as Bruce remembers.

He'd be damned if the likes of Deathstroke or Owlman finds Dick in this state sooner than he does. It seems that he owes Midnighter more than a simple thank you.

Midnighter told him that invoking muscle memory helps Dick to remember. That's why the black-clad man had come to him. He has been Dick's oldest sparring partner, most influential mentor. Hell, even their latest physical encounter before Dick departed for Spyral is an all out sparring. Once Dick's body recalls how it feels to be Robin, Nightwing, and Agent 37, his mind will follow. It should have been easy enough to guess and to execute.

"Um... Mr. Batman?"

Only, he cannot move. He cannot summon the words 'on your feet' or 'get ready, soldier' he's uttered hundreds of times before. He cannot tear his eyes off Dick, still staring up at him in uncertainty, almost child-like trust. _His child_.

Then it struck. Before Robin, Nightwing, and Agent 37, he has first and foremost lost Dick Grayson. He has lost the orphaned boy who looked up to him for guidance, who brought light to the darkness that is his life as he healed. He has lost the daring young man who took the weight of the world upon his shoulders when he's gone, who acted as a linchpin to his family of strays and misfits. He has lost not only the lieutenant in his crusade, but also one of very few people he trusts with his life and his loved ones.

Re-enacting their training might bring him back Robin, Nightwing, and Agent 37. But in order to bring back Dick Grayson, he needs to think of something else entirely. Something more than mentor and student bond. _Something_...

Bruce notices Dick flinches slightly when he lifts his left hand. Blue eyes follow his movements as he places it on Dick's shoulder. He vaguely realizes that his gesture is stiff and probably more creepy than comforting, but it's too late to back down now. With his remaining hand, he pulls Dick into an embrace.

It's awkward, with uncalculated force that probably smashes Dick's nose against his shoulder armor, but Bruce holds on. His own body begins to remember; the last time they have this kind of contact was when Nightwing has just been rescued from the Murder Machine. His boy had slumped lifelessly against his waiting arms and buried his face in his chest, tired and relieved. Despite his persona as Batman, Bruce knows that had been Dick Grayson he embraced. His son, not his soldier.

"Bat... man?"

He leans down to the mop of black hair resting on his chest, letting himself out of the Bat for awhile.

"It's Bruce. Bruce Wayne, old chum."

It seems like an eternity until he feels the tug at his cape, hands trying to squeeze his armored back, and body relaxing in his hold to realise--hope--that pieces of his son have returned.

.

.


End file.
